


King and Lionheart

by EmpireSunIncInerator



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 05:38:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13757418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmpireSunIncInerator/pseuds/EmpireSunIncInerator
Summary: Queen Azalea the Courageous is the last remaining Pevensie now that her siblings have mysteriously disappeared while hunting the White Stage. As sole ruler she must lead her war torn kingdom through dark times. A war is brewing on Narnia's very shores. Aslan is silent. And deceit lies within Narnia. The Golden Age is over. All hail the reign of Queen Azalea.





	1. Queen Azalea the Courageous

Chapter 1: Queen Azalea the Courageous 

 

In a land that could be described as dreams to either you or me. Was a place known as Narnia. The King, Lord of the whole wood, and son of the emperor across the Sea. A great and noble Lion, and not just any lion, The Great Lion. Was it’s creator. A large, talking lion, who is terrifying, magnificent and beautiful all at once. Aslan is the one true king of Narnia; all of its inhabitants have faith in him, and obey him absolutely. 

 

Nobody knew all this better than Narnia’s and their rulers, the Pevensies. The Pevensies, Two sons of Adam and three daughters of Eve. Were apart of a prophecy that foretold the coming of the Golden Age of Narnia. 

 

When Adam's flesh and Adam's bone,

Sits at Cair Paravel in throne,

The evil time will be over and done

 

And as the story told, the siblings regald against the White Witch Jadis. A ruler by her word solely, a fake and liar to the true Narnia’s that resided in Narnia. She began the Long Winter, magically forcing Narnia into a hundred-year state of frozen snow and ice, which lasted all through her reign, till her defeat. 

 

Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight,

At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more,

When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death,

And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.

 

And so the Pevensies siblings were brought to this magical through a Wardrobe in the manor of a man, Digory Kirke. Digory was there at the very beginning of Narnia, but this isn’t his story that is being told. So led by courage and their good hearts, the Pevensies, alongside Aslan. Defeated the White Witch and became rulers of Narnia. 

 

High King Peter the Magnificent, Emperor of the Lone Islands, Lord of Cair Paravel, and Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Lion. As the oldest, he was responsible and caring, always wanting to do what was best for his siblings, therefore becoming High King over his brother and sisters. Peter was a tall and deep-chested man, with blue eyes and blonde hair. 

 

Queen Susan the Gentle, was the second-born of the Pevensie children and was the eldest sister. During her reign at the Narnian capital of Cair Paravel, she was also known as Queen Susan of the Horn. Susan had long black hair and bright blue eyes, and was always considered by adults to be the beauty of the family. 

 

King Edmund the Just, Duke of Lantern Waste, Count of the Western March and Knight of the Noble Order of the Table. Edmund had dark brown hair, brown eyes, pale skin and freckles.

 

Queen Lucy the Valiant, was the youngest of the Pevensie children, and was the first one to discover Narnia. Though not as beautiful as Susan, Lucy was still quite a beauty in her own right, with golden-blonde hair, blue eyes, and fair skin.

 

Oh, but it seems that one sibling’s story had yet to be told. For this tale is about Queen Azalea the Courageous, the second born daughter and third sibling between Queen Susan and King Edmund. The Pevensie that was left behind to rule Narnia when her siblings chased after the white stage. Azalea was a strange beauty, neither plain or extraordinary, a constant pretty. Cornflower blue eyes and a head full of untameable frizzy curly blonde hair that she kept short in her frustrations with trying to tame it. 

 

She was a fine swordswoman, and was said to be the best in Narnia. This was partly due to her magic sword, Athena. A name that showed she was both wise as she was fierce in battle. But once, like all of us, she was young and immature, a flower yet to fully bloom to its full potential. 

 

This tale is set in a time of great peril and a time of Narnia’s greatest need. It’s known as the end of the Pevensies legendary Golden Age. And the beginning of Queen Azalea’s the Courageous reign, as Queen of Narnia. 

 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Some days, she has no idea how she’ll do it. But every single day, it still gets done.

 

 

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“The Black Dwarfs wish to expand their mines--” The councilman, a centaur, half-horse, half-human read off to the assembled council. Though Azalea could hardly pay attention as he droned on. 

 

She sat with her back straight, acting on proper etiquette that was near enough beat into by her sister, Susan. She acted as if she was paying high attention to what was going on around her. In her mind however, she was thinking about the near fleeting minutes she had left before the council was called to a halt for the day. 

 

“Again?” groaned a Fawn, shaking their head in bemusement. “Why do they keep asking? The Dryad’s will never go for such a demand. The Dwarf’s mines would cut right under their woods.” 

 

“Oh? Then what do you think when the current mines run out of Iron ore? Fancy using soft bronze against our enemies?” questioned a Red Dwarf. 

 

“The Dwarf’s mines are a large expanse as they are,” The Fawn countered. “They aren’t going to run out of Iron anytime soon.”

 

“For now you mean!” The Dwarf retorted, his pudgy finger wagging at the small Fawn. “It’s only a matter of time.” 

 

“Peace, Master Diggle, Master Horn,” Spoke up a rather intelligent looking Badger, who sat in a chair with his paws folded in front of him. Listening more closer to the conversation than Azalea was. “Surly we can come to some sort of agreement, peacefully. What does her Highness think?” 

 

All eyes turned to Azalea. Whose eyes were focused in her lap, Instead of paying attention to the conversation like she should. She had been fingering the threadbare white lace on her cuff that was coming unstitched. She kept pressing the frayed ends back into the cuff, over and over, almost feverishly. When she was questioned, she blanched, a nervous shiver going along her spine. Making her want to squirm in her chair but she refrained from doing so, her sister would be most disappointed if she did. 

 

The centaur, who had addressed the topic. Coughed loudly, an arm sweeping across the assembled group of seven delegates. Queen Azalea and the centaur included. “Perhaps we should adjourn for today, and follow back up when we have properly rested.” 

 

“Yes, Yes, it’s like the saying goes; A tired mind equal tired results. You must rest your mind and your spirit to achieve greatness!” called Swallowpad from his perch on an ivory bird stand.

 

“Then we’ll end it here for today, and start back up tomorrow, say, Noon?” suggested a second Raven, perched right beside Swallowpad. 

 

“I believe it's for our best interest,” Master Horn, who was the Fawn from earlier, said. “To postpone for now.” 

 

All turned back once more to Queen Azalea, for only the Queen could call the council to a close. Azalea was all too quick to agree with the suggestion, her shoulders relaxing as the meeting finally came to a close. 

 

She slowly slide off her throne, attempting to keep the stuffy yellow gown from riding up her arse. Light Pink Patent with Rose Gold and Pink Leaves adored her feet as she lightly met the ground with a quiet click of her heels. 

 

“I hate these meetings.” Azalea mumbled as she tried to straighten her crown that had slumped slightly to the left side. The greek styled leaves on the front slightly pinched her fingers. But the smooth feel of the tiny silver rose bulbs that clustered around the sides and back reminded her why she liked it so much. 

 

“Yet it is part of your responsibilities, your Majesty.” Came the dry response from the centaur, who was rolling up the parchment that held today’s complaints. 

 

“I know, I know, Orion,” Azalea sighed, staring helplessly at her adviser as they were the only remaining occupancies in the room. “It’s just that I never had the patience for council meetings, I just always found them terribly dull, Pe--” Azalea cut herself off, her face contorted into a painful grimace. 

 

Orion noticed, but never offered the regular pitying and sorrowful words that she had been hearing in a constant cycle the last couple of months. Instead he laid a tan skinned arm onto her bishop sleeved shoulder and gently clamped down in reassurance. His dark eyes bore sympathetically into her own wary ones. It was a small show of comfort and Azalea gladly accepted it from her old friend. 

 

“Anyway,” Azalea continued, skimming over the bump in the conversation. “I’ll think I’ll take a ride out with Gringolet. By the Lion’s Mane, he must be getting fat and lazy while I’m stuck inside.” 

 

“He would be needing the exercise,” Orion mused, scratching at his full black-fleeced beard. “But I believe he had always been idle.” 

 

“We mustn't say that in front of him,” Azalea chuckled, walking alongside her adviser as they exited the meeting hall. Though kept herself a few inches apart, to avoid his tremendously huge hoofed feet. “It would greatly insult him and I would not like the retribution of getting bucked everytime I sit on the saddle.” 

 

“He would be lenient towards you,” Orion put in. “you were always his favorite human.” 

 

“I wonder how many humans Gringolet has met before me,” Azalea scuffed. “I think he only likes me because he’s getting all the thistle’s and carrots he wants from me.” 

 

“You’ve always been soft-hearted towards the noble steed.” Orion teased, making Azalea roll her eyes in an un-royal like manner. 

 

Azalea had no warning save the cry of her name before she had a face full of feverus, slobbering licking tongue. Azalea kept her mouth shut, half in fear of getting a mouth full of dog tongue and the other, experience in knowing to just wait it out. Front paws were on her shoulders, leaning heavily against her and almost unbalancing her in their assault on thoroughly wetting her face. 

 

Once they were done, they leaped back onto all fours. It's curled tail wagging happily behind them. Brindle coat seemed to shake across its stocky and slim body from it's over eagerness. 

 

“Goldenrod,” Azalea exclaimed, indignantly wiping her face roughly with her sleeve. “I really wish you’d stop doing that.” 

 

“You can’t teach that one anything.” spoke up Bright Eyes, Goldenrod’s brother. He was his sisters identical twin, the Greyhound siblings had been Azalea’s companions throughout her coronation and had even fought alongside her in many battles, one of which happened to be against the Calormen, the telmarine army. Lead by Prince Rabadash, the pompous spoiled royal who wanted to force her sister Queen Susan into marrying him. 

 

“I don’t see what the problem is,” Goldenrod yelped, tilting her head to the side in confusion. “I was simply saying hello.” 

 

“And hello to you too, Goldenrod, Bright Eyes.” Azalea said, a little more cheerful. She couldn’t stay mad at Goldenrod for long, she was rather silly and navie. Bright Eyes was constantly on her case, being the more responsible sibling that he was. He kept on constant alert, and eye, on Goldenrod. 

 

“How was your trip?” Orion asked politely, the Greyhound siblings were a constant presence in both their lives and Orion had found Goldenrods antics endearing, while also finding great pleasure in debating with Bright Eyes. The brindle dog was very intelligent and focused than most other dogs, most likely for being apart of the Narnia’s court. Although not on the council. 

 

“Great,” Goldenrod quickly stated, tail wagging a mile a minute. “Mother is more happy than ever to live with Fiona. She was getting on in her years, and Fiona wasn’t such a young Fawn herself. They make great companions.” 

 

“Glad to hear.” Orion nodded, before turning to head down a different hallway. 

 

“Where might you be off too today, Your Highness?” Bright Eyes asked curiously, padding alongside Azalea while Goldenrod flanked her on her other side. 

 

“I’m going out for a ride,” Azalea replied, a thrill going down her spine at the prospects of riding along the beach of Cair Paravel. She loved the feeling of fresh air on her face, and if she rode in the right direction, the feeling of the wind blowing her hair behind her. “Right now in fact, I don’t want to get caught right after getting out of a council meeting.” 

 

“Ha-ha, always the sneak you are!” Bright Eyes chuckled to himself.

 

“Oh, riding, I just love a good run!” Goldenrod yaped, frisking between her brother and Azalea. “I just love racing alongside the horses. They are such fun to keep up with. I also love--” Goldenrod droned on, filling the silence with her constant chatter as Azalea made a pit-stop in her chambers to change into something more suited for a ride along the beach. 

 

Behind her dressing screen, Azalea traded her yellow gown in favor of a plain brown dress with hanging sleeves. A mahogany colored leather belt was wrapped tightly around her waist, a holster designed onto it for holding a sheath for a dagger. Though it wasn’t just any dagger. It was her sister’s. Queen Lucy the Valiants dagger that Azalea carried on her person when not in royal settings. It was a constant friend when her youngest sibling was no longer with her. She kept many of her siblings items. Peter’s sword, Rhindon. Susan’s horn, the mouthpiece of the horn is shaped like a budding flower, and the bell, where the sound emerges from, is carved in the shape of a lion's head. Edmunds shield, welded in the shape of a lion face. Lightly covered in pure gold, but feeling light as air. And Lucy’s dagger. The rest of her siblings possessions, when it seemed apparent that they would never return, were put in a tomb in honor of her siblings. 

 

Lifting her crown off her head, she gently coaxed out the tangles caught in the frame. Before gingerly setting it down on a velvet pillow that rested on her vanity. She took a moment to stare transfixed at the way it shined brightly with flashes of light. The light coming from her windows that extending to the floor in an outside wall, serving as a window and door for her balcony, bouncy off the gold in a ray of patchy gleams. The sight of it made it look truly fetching, but Azalea knew the heavy burden and responsibility that came with the crown. 

 

After shoving her feet into a pair of tall leather riding boots. Azalea felt she was dressed enough and with a quick whistle to gain Goldenrods and Bright Eyes attention. Who had their noses shoved in places they shouldn’t be. Excited her bedroom chambers and headed down through a side servant’’ quarter, meant for medium sized animals and people. They passage wound its way out into a side courtyard, that expanded down onto a rolling step bank. All along and across the bank were rows of apple trees. The chief mole, Lilygloves, planted an apple orchard for her and her siblings. The young branches barley skimmed over her head, but the thought of freshly baked apple pie made her anticipate when the apple trees bloom and start setting its first fruit after pollination. 

 

Already the air smelled more fresh and sweet. She was certain Gringolet was lingering about out here, the stallion was always found dozing away in the shade of the youthful orchard. Her assumption happened to be correct as light, nayying snore could be heard through a close cluster of saplings, as if someone with wheezing in their sleep. Which just happens to be what Gringolet sounded like whenever he slept. Only louder. 

 

“How would you like to wake him up?” Bright Eyes asked curiously. Both dogs and human approaching the sleeping stallions hideaway. 

 

“Oh, I ha--” Azalea’s words were cut off however, as a loud nay was let out along with a yap as Goldenrod ran right into the sleeping beast. 

 

“Well I sa-sa-sa-yyy!” Gringolet, startled, clambered onto his hoofs. Snout snorting in outrage as he shot Goldenrod a nasty glare. 

 

“Gringolet!” Azalea called as she neared, pushing a low-hanging branch out of her way. 

 

“Your Highness,” Gringolet nickers fairly quietly, his ears twitching in greeting. “I was just enjoying an afternoon nap.” 

 

“So sorry, we hadn’t noticed.” Azalea drly retorted, although the sarcasm seemed to go over Gringolet’s head. 

 

“It’s quite alright,” Gringolet dismissed, giving himself a vigorous shake. That shook out sprays of leaves and twigs from his black mane and tail. “Now, Your Majesty, how might I be of service to you on this fine day?” 

 

“Care for a ride, along the cliff trails, especially the one that leads down into the sea cove.” Azalea specified, a burst of anticipation coursing through her when she thought about the cove. The small sheltered bay was a great hideaway, and collecting pretty small sea-shells to decorate her vanity was always fun. 

 

“A wonderful choice, Your Highness,” Gringelot praised. “Through the rocky, narrow path’s are always a stretch for my larger bulk. It would be worth the effort.” 

 

“I appreciate your kind-temperament towards the struggles I put upon you.” Azalea retorted dryly. 

 

“Do not worry about me now, your Highness,” Gringelot hushed, blinking a pair of brown eyes. “Now, will you be riding free-saddle or would you like to go the more boring and safer route and get a bridle?” 

 

“Now when have I ever needed to use a saddle or bridle with you?” Azalea teased back, grabbing ahold of his long mane to help pull herself up. He was pudgy around the middle, Azalea noted. Clearly Gringelot would need the exercise. 

 

“All settled?” Gringelot called up to her, she gave a confirming hum when she found her balance. Lightly tangling a handful of Gringelot’s black mane in her hand, she would never really pull on him. Just for safety reasons, and Gringelot never seemed to mind if she accidently pulled now and then. “Than let's be off, shall we?”

 

They went the same route they always had, down through the orchard till they reached the stream. There they went along a winding, rocky path that lead out into another stream that they had to cross, once crossed the trail sloped downward once again, until the smell of salt could be smelled by all. Goldenrod and Bright Eyes lead the group, running back whenever they believed horse and human fell too far behind. The Greyhound siblings looked absolutely ecstatic from their little outing. Azalea mourned the fact that she hadn’t brought a picnic basket. 

 

The pebbled path turned into smooth sand as they reached shore, then farther until they neared the waters edge. The salty foam gently lapping at Gringelot’s hoofs as Azalea dismounted. The ends of her skirts were getting wet, but she was too giddy to care. She hastily unlaced her leather boots, letting them fall onto the sand with a loud ‘plop’ then took took off racing down the shore line. Hiking up the ends of her dress till they fell against her thighs, Azalea ran off laughing. 

 

Wet sand squashed underneath the heels of her feet and between her toes. The sea foam splashed her ankles, a few drops even getting further up her torso as she kicked out, flinging water high in the air. Gringelot’s loud whines of mirth joined in as he galloped slowly behind her, throwing his head back as he let out horse sounds of merriment. 

 

Goldenrod and Bright Eyes chased the shore, scaring off seagulls who cluelessly landed in their sights. Their paws flinging sand as they sprinted across the long expanse of the shore. 

 

Azalea ran the entire length of the cove, before abruptly coming to a halt. Out of breath. She flopped herself into the sand, not caring if her bum became wet. Instead she focused on calming herself down, gaining control of her quick breathing. She was left feeling boneless, a tranquil bliss. Her earlier worries seemed to melt in the golden sand. 

 

“I wouldn't mind just sitting here for the rest of my life.” Azalea sighed, leaning back on her elbows. 

 

“It would become dull awfully fast, Your Highness.” Bright Eyes exclaimed as he came to stand beside her, panting hard with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. 

 

“Your right, I should have brought a book.” Azalea mused. 

 

“The whole extensive library of Cair Paravel could not satisfy you.” 

 

“You might honestly be right about that, Bright Eyes.” Azalea decided after sitting in the sand, scooping up handfuls and letting them fall between in fingers. That it was time to be heading back. She stood, trying to at least get most of the dirt off of her clothes before mounting Gringelot once more. 

 

As Gringelot turned towards Cair Paravel, Azalea casted a regretful glance at the now vacant cove behind her shoulder. Silently promising to visit it again sometime in the near future. 

 

 

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It was very late, late that even the birds had gone to rest. When Azalea found herself walking on the battlement. She was in her nightwear, a long white lace nightdress. With a red shawl covering her shoulders and hanging down her upper back. A pair of ruby red slippers covered her feet, protecting them from the cold white stones. 

 

Way up here, Azalea swore as she looked out towards the sea, she could see where the dark ocean mingled with the sky. The stars reflecting the eerily calmness of the roaring sea, making it look like a liquid pool of glowing stars. 

 

“You’re up late tonight, Your Majesty.” Azalea turned to see Orion coming up to join her. She smiled in greeting as he came to stand beside her, leaning slightly against the parapet. 

 

“So are you, Orion.” Azalea returned, coming to lean against the parapet herself. 

 

“The mere difference, your Highness, is that I choose to be awake.” Orion returned, sounding knowingly. 

 

“I had a bad dream, tis all.” Azalea sighed, trying to wave away her advisers concerns. But he waited, till finally she broke. “It was about my siblings, it's the unknowing of what might have happened to them that makes my mind come up with the worst of possibilities. I wish Mr. Tumnus were here, but he is abiding himself to the cool woods and dewy slopes of his woodland home now that high summer has approached.”

 

“Perhaps a visit is in order?” Orion suggested, Azalea considered it for a moment. She would like to see her old friend again, along with Mr. and Mrs. Beaver who resided in their dam. 

 

“Perhaps…” Azalea said vaguely. “I have to confess, Orion. I never once saw myself as a sole ruler of Narnia, not even in my dreams. It was always one of my other siblings making the hard choices, always them pondering over solutions. I don’t feel wise or responsible enough to make decisions on behalf of all Narnian’s.” 

 

“Your Majesty,” Orion began, gently laying a hand on her shoulder. “Being afraid is part of being brave. Being wise is protecting your subjects, you might not have the wisdom now. It will come with age. Where you place your people in your soul, will be where you lead them.” 

 

Azalea still looked up, uncertain of the centaurs words. Orion tightened his grip, before releasing her. Without looking at her, he gestured her to follow him. A soft hum echoing in his throat, that instantly soothed Azalea. 

 

As you go through life you'll see

There is so much that we

Don't understand 

 

Orion sang softly, his horse feet clicking against white stone. Azalea keeping a quick pace on her own, human legs.

 

And the only thing we know

Is things don't always go

The way we planned 

 

The battlement echoed his words, the wall nearly vacant save for a few falcons and Fawn’s that stood on guard. 

 

But you see everyday that we'll never turn away

When it seems all your dreams come undone

We will stand by your side

Filled with hope and filled with pride

We are more than we are

We are one 

 

He gently placed his hand back on her shoulder, looking down at her with a soft look that a father would give their child. 

 

If there's so much I must be

Can I still just be me

The way I am

Can I trust in my own heart

Or am I just one part

Of some big land? 

 

Azalea sang softly, folding her arms across her chest, feeling like she was holding herself together. Her voice asking the unanswered question. 

 

Even those who are gone

Are with us as we go on

Your journey has only begun

 

Her eyes roamed down into the courtyard, a single, white flowering dogwood tree resided in the yards center. She remembered when it was planted, it was a dryad one, her and her siblings were present during it's planting. She remembered Lucy’s excitement during the whole event. 

 

Tears of pain tears of joy

One thing nothing can destroy

Is our pride deep inside

We are one

 

Orion directed her attention back towards the sea, the stars gleaming still on the seemingly frozen water. Looking closer she could make out the watery reflection of Cair Paravel. As if the castle had multiplied or had fallen into the sea. It made a beautiful picture, she wondered if she could have someone paint a portrait of Cair Paravel so she could hang it in the hallway outside her chambers. 

 

We are one you and I

We are like the earth and sky

One family under the sun

 

Orion gestured her onward again, a falcon dipped its head in respect as Azalea and Orion passed. She gingerly reached out, scratching it briefly on the head. Feeling it's smooth, glossy feathers. 

 

All the wisdom to lead

All the courage that you need

You will find when you see

We are one 

 

They eventually descended from the battlement, down the wide stairway and out into the courtyard. The sound of night critters more audible down here, instead of quietness of the battlement. Her edge of her skirt and shawl fluttered softly as a ground breeze blew through the courtyard, scattering the milk colored petals on the ground. Azalea gently reached out, touching a lower branch and watched as a spray of petals rained down on her. Settling on her shoulders and red scrawl. She felt like a wood dryad herself. 

 

“Orion,” Azalea whispered, after they both had fallen silent once more. “Do you think they are happy, wherever they are now?”

 

“I can’t be sure,” Orion confessed, slightly disappointing her. “But as I look to the stars I can say for certain this is not the last we will see of our wayward Kings and Queens.” 

 

Azalea smiled at that, a burden slightly lifted from her chest. Shaking off the white petals from her hair and shawl, Azalea bid goodnight to Orion. Leaving the centaur to his stargazing while she too off back to her chambers, this time to actually get some sleep. 

 

 

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I do not own The Chronicles of Narnia But boy do I wish I did! I hope you have enjoyed and leave a review!


	2. A Queen's Duty

Chapter 2: A Queen's Duty

 

 

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The king is the least independent man in his dominions; the beggar the most so. -- A.W. Hare

 

 

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Azalea’s morning was set in routine. At the early crack of dawn, Miss. Lyde. As the Faun likes to be called. Would come to wake Azalea and draw her bath, while Azalea dined at her little side table. Her breakfast would contain soft-boiled eggs with a side of pork. Rice and raisins and nuts were also placed in individual bowls for Azalea to pick from. Toast smeared with cream and fresh-cut strawberries had its own little plate. A fruit salad filled with cut fruit of different sorts was placed in a little bowl next to the nuts. Alongside the meal was a stirred iced sherbet in a golden cup to wash it all down with. 

 

When Azalea had finished all she could of the meal, she would be ushered into the warm marble bathtub while Miss. Lyde would carry away her plates and cup. She would soak for a minute or two, although she would prefer longer, before washing her hair. Scented oils that smelled like lavender would be rubbed into her skin and washed away with a washcloth. Although leaving behind the lavender scent. Once she had bathed she would then dry off.

 

By this time Miss. Lyde would have returned and helped her get ready. She would first pick out the outfit she would be wearing, which would preferably be her flowing, mint green gown, with lace sleeves and collar. And Miss. Lyde would help her change into it, tightening up the bodies and making sure it still fit probably with no tears or rips in any of the hems. 

 

Then Miss. Lyde and Azalea would struggle through her hair. Miss. Lyde would agree that even while short, Azalea’s hair was the worst to work with. The frizeness would make it poof-out in all directions, while the curls couldn’t be tamed in any sort of fashion. What they normally would do was flatten it to the best of their combined abilities, then position Azalea’s crown a certain way that draws attention from the wild, blonde curls. 

 

When Azalea was deemed ready and dressed. Miss. Lyde would walk with her down to the study, Peter’s study. Azalea refused to think of the study as her own. She would always picture Peter leaned over the mahogany desk, next to the window. Pouring over documents or reports till the candle wax was pooling in their holsters. Sometimes she would catch him in rare moments, slacking. Relaxed in one of the more comfortable chairs in the room, with a more interesting read than the boring reports. Even the High King had taken time for himself. 

 

When she was settled in the high back ivory chair. Miss. Lyde would bring her the days reports or documents that needed overseeing, and then retreat back to Azalea’s chambers to clean and change the sheets. 

 

Azalea would toil over them, reading them carefully and then signed where it needed to be signed. She would be at it till she got stuck or confused. Whenever that happened she’d set the document or report aside for Orion to look over, he would be able to explain the matter far better to her than she could on her own. 

 

Although, one week after her retreat on the beach. A letter had come, one of urgency that was placed before her by Orion himself. It was startling to say the least, the way her adviser came trampling through the door and just handing the letter to her. 

 

Right away Azalea noticed the all too familiar seal, the letter was from Tashbaan. Flashes of Azalea’s last enteractions in Calormen replayed in her mind. Tashban had been an ugly place, so void of carefree life and reeking of muck in the streets. People paraded as slaves. The heat almost overbearing. She could hardly keep her tongue at how false the Tisroc’s welcome had been. The only reason Azalea had even gone was to be a monarch of Narnia and attempted to establish diplomatic relations with Calormen. 

 

Which had quickly took a sour turn when the Narnian monarch’s had to flee in secret when it was apparent that Prince Rabadash wouldn’t simply let them go home peacefully. Not with Queen Susan at least. Luckily, Mr. Tumnus, the brilliant fellow that he was, came up with a scheme that got them all safely out of Tashbaan and onto open waters. 

 

Though the foolish Prince Rabadash just couldn’t leave it alone. He raised up an army and attempted to conquer against Archenland, Narnia’s allies. When they had pulled up and heard what was happening, Azalea, Edmund and Lucy had pulled out their weapons and had headed with an army of their own to fight alongside their allies against Prince Rabadash’s troops. They had won, mostly due to Prince Rabadash’s own foolishness, and a stroke of luck. 

 

When Aslan had come to punish Prince Rabadash, turning him into a donkey with strict instructions that if he ever went more than ten miles from the temple, he would resume the donkey form for the rest of his life. She thought now that he was bond by that, then he wouldn’t be a problem anymore. She wished however, that he had been foolish enough to have attempted to leave, it would be just rewards to live the rest of his insufferable life as a donkey.

 

Unsealing the scroll, she looked over the parchment. Her eyes going wide and a light gasp escaping her lips. 

 

“What is it, your Highness?” Orion asked, gauging her reaction. His mouth turned down into a worried scowl. 

 

“Tisroc of Calormen,” Azalea choked out, barly believing her own eyes. “Has died three nights ago, in his sleep.” 

 

“What? How can this be.” Orion asked, just as surprised as Azalea. 

 

“Here, read it for yourself.” Azalea handed her adviser the parchment, her hands resting on the desk in front of her to help steady her. The Tisroc’s death took her completely by surprise and frankly, she didn’t know what this would mean for Narnia. 

 

“It seems we must prepare to renew the peace treaty between Calormen and Narnia.” Orion said, after a moment of silence. Rolling the parchment back up, then handing it back to Azalea. 

 

“What if P-King Rabadash refuses?” Azalea asked in worry, Narnia wasn’t on good terms with the Prince-now-King. 

 

“Highly, unlikely,” Orion mused, scratching at his black fleeced beard. “He wouldn’t dare break treaty and attack. His pride would never lead him to open wars, seeing as his curse enables him from leaving the city. Enabling him from leading military campaigns and we both know he’d never let another fight in his name.”

 

“True,” Azalea agreed, pondering it for a second. “Although he wouldn’t attack us, wouldn’t he still have a right to refuse a renewal?” 

 

“He could,” Orion agreed. “Though perhaps Calormen’s new leader has grown since last visit. Become a more wiser and thoughtful ruler?”

 

“Maybe Apes will grow honest, Orion,” Azalea snorted in an unladylike manner. “But not even by the Lion’s own mouth, will I belive that Rabadash would ever become either Wiser or Thoughtful.” 

 

“Let us send out a reply, and see what our response is.” Orion suggested. 

 

Azalea thought it over, and finding no other solution, agreed. Although she wanted nothing to do with Rabadash or Calormen entirely, she found it the best course of action to get it out of the way. Once the letter was compiled of the necessary clause and the importance of the agreement, Azalea had the letter sent by Miss. Lyde to Orion to look over and make any additional changes if needed.

 

After more reports, and settling a petty squabble between two squirrels over a nut each claims for themselves. Which, was actually easy to find a solution too, simply finding another nut to make it fair and even. Azalea stowed herself away, into the main library. The glass ceiling letting in bright sunlight to read by. She pulled out a book by random, taking it with her over towards a chair next to an opened window. She settled with her back against the plush lounge chair. 

 

Flipping open the slightly yellow pages, worn with age. She found to her delight, the image of Queen Swanwhite. 

 

Queen Swanwhite was a queen of Narnia, known for her great beauty. So beautiful in fact that if her face were reflected in a pool the image of her face remained for a year and a day. Azalea could never imagine even having a mere ounce of Queen Swanwhite’s beauty. The history goes on to tell how Queen Swanwhite ruled before Jadis. Azalea shuddered at how Queen Swanwhite reacted to Jadis invasion. Was she scared? Afraid? Did she try to run or did she stay and fight? 

 

Azalea supposed she would never know, seeing as Queen Swanwhite’s legacy was never finished. The truth lost forever, never to be truly claimed as fact. Leaving future historians to wonder and guess what became of her. 

 

Azalea was brought out of her story due to the sound of fluttering wings. Looking up, she was greeted with the sight of a Falcon, resting on the open windowsill. 

 

“Hello,” Azalea greeted kindly, watching as the Falcon shook out it's windswept fathers. 

 

“Hello to you, your Majesty,” The Falcon greeted, dipping its head in respect. Before sticking out it's leg, where a rolled up parchment was tied to his left leg. “I’ve brought you a letter.” 

 

“Thank you.” Azalea thanked him, untying the Falcons burden and watching him fly off. What natural hunters Falcons were, such elegance while gliding through the air. She turned back to her letter after she saw him disappear into the horizon. Untying the strings that kept the parchment rolled up, she pulled it taut, keeping it smooth and straight as she read. 

 

When she had finished, she was smiling. Mr. Tumnus had asked for a visit. Not that her dear friend would need an invitation. She had missed Mr. Tumnus dearly and couldn’t wait to go see him. 

 

 

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Galavanting through greenwoods during the peak of summer was exhilarating, if a bit clammy. The blurred forest scenery messed with her eyes, making them unfocused. Though it did not dampen her spirit, or her abilities in riding sidesaddle. A cobalt blue dress hanged off her frame, just barely skimming a thumbnail over her toes. The sleeves hung loose and free, giving her arms ample room to move them however she pleased with no restrictions. With the sun rising in midday, Azalea would have turned back by now. If not for the fact that she was out visiting an old friend. 

 

“Thank you, Gringolet,” Azalea said to her horse friend, slipping off the side of the saddle as they came to a stop beside a familiar looking lamp post. “Why don’t you go graz or something, I might be a while.”

 

“I fancy a nap in the shade,” Gringolet nayed, a drowsy sound coming from his horse lips. “Do wake me once it’s time to leave.” 

 

“Alright, till then.” Azalea called as she turned from her friend, heading off on her own. 

 

Mr. Tumnus lived in a comfortable cave by the side of the Lamp-post in the Lantern Waste, during the summers, when it became too hot near the eastern sea coast. He would find refuge in the cool deep woods that his cave resided in. Although, Azalea secretly thought to herself that Mr. Tumnus hoarded a secret expectation. That one day Azalea’s siblings would return f where they were last seen, which had been at Lantern Waste.

 

She didn’t discourage him, what could she say to him that wouldn’t draw attention to the fact that the hope of reuniting with her siblings once again was fading. Orion had settled some of that fear, though he didn’t specify that she would be seeing them again. Only that her siblings might one day return to Narnia, but who knew when that might be? She could be dead before then. 

 

Her eyes fell upon an unusually large rock, which concealed the entrance to Mr. Tumnus cave. She speed up her walk, eager to see her old friend once more. Mr. Tumnus hadnt had the heart to continue on as royal adviser when Azalea’s siblings had disappeared, that duty had fallen to Orion shortly after. Instead he had sought a more pleasant and quiet life, while still keeping in contact with his friends in Cair Paravel. Though Azalea had tried her best to get him to stay. Once even faking ill in attempt to keep him from leaving, which she had never tried to do again because of the consequence and worry that occured because of such an act.

 

She approached and gave the makeshift door three tentative knocks, unsure if he was home at this hour. Her uncertainty evaporated when her hoofed friend appeared, smiling with unconcealed mirth.

 

“Awe, your Highness, please come in.” Mr. Tumnus invited, moving aside so that Azalea may pass him. Mr. Tumnus home was refurbished from how it had been when Jadis, the White Witch and her Secret Police, had first destroyed it. 

 

It was rather quaint, little small, but felt homey. She gazed at the replaced red carpet on the floor, with an insignia of a lion, sewed in gold. The fireplace remained untouched, the chairs replaced, along with a new dresser and table. The door to Mr. Tumnus private bedroom was fixed, although she never went inside she presumed he had fixed it up. His books were salvaged and lined the wall once more. What broke Mr. Tumnus heart however, and brought anger to the hearts of the Pevensie siblings, was the painting of Tumnus' father that set over a mantelpiece over the fire had been destroyed beyond recognition. Instead there was a painting of a beautiful meadow, filled with flowers of all sorts and a ring of dancing fauns in its place. 

 

He gestured for her to take a seat on one of the only two chairs in the room, before leaving to collect refreshments. She situated herself, it was a tight fit but she managed. Mr. Tumnus returned shortly, carrying a tray that held a tea kettle with a sweet scent coming from it. On the tray was also milk, honey, sugar, lemon wedges and cream. Azalea took hers with milk and honey. Once he had made his own tea, Mr. Tumnus settled across from her, a pleasant look upon his features. 

 

“I’m so glad you could visit,” Mr. Tumnus said, taking a sip of his tea. “I had been yearning to see you again, but could never bring myself to visit.” the ‘why’ going unsaid on Azalea’s part. It would seem very stupid to ask a question she already knew the answer too. 

 

“I’m glad as well,” Azalea replied, enjoying the taste of her tea. “It’s work, work, work all the time now. I hardly have time for anything else, especially now that the Tisroc is dead.” 

 

“The Tisroc is dead?” Mr. Tumnus exclaimed in surprise, so surprised in fact that he nearly spilled his tea. 

 

“Haven’t you heard?” Azalea questioned. Perhaps he hadn’t heard, it had only been two days since they received the notice after all. “He died about five days ago, we’re in preparation to renew the peace treaty or prepare if the offer is revoked.” 

 

“The news is quite shocking,” Mr. Tumnus said, leaning back into his chair. He fit perfectly in his rocker chair. “But unsurprising, he was rather old despite everyone wishing that he may live forever.” 

 

“Everyone dies eventually,” Azalea scuffed, shaking her head at the Calormen’s foolishness. Before thinking of someone who she cared dearly for. “Or most do.” she added, more thoughtful with the idea. 

 

“Yes, yes, right so,” Mr. Tumnus nodded, taking another sip of his tea. “Now I suppose Rabadash will take his place, I don't know if I should feel sorry for the people of Calormen or hope he runs it to the ground.” 

 

“I’m actually rooting for the second.” Azalea admitted with a guilty smile. 

 

“Don't feel too bad for such beings,” Mr. Tumnus reached out, taking her hand in reassurance. “After all, I do still remember dining with the Grand Vizier. An experience I still shudder when in remembrance.”

 

“How brave of you to spend time in his presence, alone.” Azalea laughed, remembering the little humpbacked, wizened old man. 

 

“How I wished I could have gotten out of it,” Mr. Tumnus laughed along with her, setting down his cup for it was now empty. “He wasn’t a fine fellow to keep company with, especially to dine with.” 

 

“Bad table manners than?” Azalea asked, slightly amused. 

 

“The worst.” Mr. Tumnus laminated with woe.

 

A light chuckle escaped her throat, slightly choking on her tea. It was about that time when she realized she had stayed longer than she had meant too. She was sure Orion was preparing a search party by now. The Narnian’s have been rather on edge since her declaration to visit Mr. Tumnus, only the reassurance of Orion did they not send an entire party to accompany her. She sympathized with their concerns, they were worried that she would leave and not come back like her siblings. 

 

It was with that motivation that she had the willpower to stand, setting down her teacup in the process. She smiled sadly at Mr. Tumnus, wishing she could stay longer but her kingdom needed it's ruler. 

 

Mr. Tumnus stood and saw her out, a series of ‘thank-you’s’ and ‘we’ll see each other again soon’ ca

me from both ends. After they said their farewells, Azalea found herself walking towards Gringelot, her shoulder relaxed but her heart heavy. 

 

 

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Also like to add in that I also work on Quotev where I originally posted, so go look there as well! Under the same username!


	3. A Queen's Role

Chapter 3: A Queen’s Role

 

 

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Destined to reign, Destined to roam. -- ‘Wunderking song’ by Alantis morissette. 

 

 

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“I believe you have lost your touch since our last session, your Highness.” Peridan teased lightly, swinging a gold-hilted sword one-handed. 

 

“Really now,” Azalea scuffed, glaring half-hearted at the royal courtier. “I say we’ve barely begun and already your huffing and puffing in your effort to keep up with me.”

 

“If your referring to that break I called for earlier,” Peridan blocked Azalea’s sword, protecting himself with his shield. “I thought it would be in both our best interest.”

 

“You mean your best interest,” Azalea clashed swords with the male, bringing them close together. “I could have gone longer.”

 

“Forgive me, your Majesty when I say this,” Peridan grunted, inhaling deeply as Azalea brought up her knee that rammed right into his gut. “You’d keep going if not for the fact that you are merely human.” 

 

“All the things I could do if I needed no sleep, food, or use the garderobes,” Azalea added on, her sword connecting to Peridan’s, the blades binding with each other. “I would find it very boring to fight all day however.” A sly smile crossed her lips, her eyes flashing as she reversed her hand. With the blade tip downward, she made a strong and abrupt circular movement with her wrist. His sword being dropped due to his loose grip on the sword hilt and with triumph, she pressed the tip of her sword lightly to his upper-armored chest. 

 

“I do believe your profession is most suited in the council room, Lord Peridan.” Azalea declared, a silver gauntlet arm reaching out to take the defeated opponents in a show of good sportsmanship. 

 

“If it is you who is on the opposing side I would be sure to stay at home, your Highness.” Peridan took the offered hand, and both opponents shook on it. 

 

“A splendid match your Highness, very invigorating to watch.” spoke up a hyper aware Rabbit, it's ears twitching in rapid movements as it practically looked like it was vibrating in place. 

 

“Another wonderful executed win. Marvelously done, your Highness.” complemented a female Cheetah, laying in the grass. 

 

“Lord Peridan here thought I had lost my touch in mock battle,” Azalea called to her companions. Walking towards the raised tent that her company had temporarily put up to shelter from the heat. “I do hope I have knocked the ridiculous notion out of him. Because I’m not sure if he could handle a repeat session.” 

 

“I was simply mistaken,” Peridan replied, picking up a sliced peach. “I thought with you in council so often now, I might have an upper hand this time.” 

 

A table was set up at the entrance to the tent. Laid upon it was different tibits to choose from. Strawberries, blueberries, blackberries, raspberries, and grapes were all mixed in a large bowl at the tables center. Sliced peaches, oranges, watermelon, apples and pears laid in individual smaller bowls laid across the table. Golden cheese was spread across little toasted breads, that were placed on a plate. A jug of creamy milk sat at one end, while goblets of sweet wine were skewed across the entire table, each goblet having its own host. 

 

Azalea picked up her own goblet filled with grape wine and took a sip, it was refreshing after the fight. She reached over and took a slice of apple for herself, munching happily on the tree fruit. “Sparring is a great pastime,” Azalea remarked, falling into a wooden chair that had a velvet cushioned seat. “It limber’s up unused muscles and is great practice.” 

 

“I quite agree, your Majesty.” A Dwarf bellowed, clearly tipsy from all the wine he had consumed. A Leopard chided his carelessness. 

 

“Have you heard of the royal birth of Prince Ram?” Peridan questioned, coming to sit across from her, raising his feet up on a footrest looking completely relaxed. 

 

“Who hadn't?” Azalea returned, a smile growing on her face. When she had received the news she could hardly believe it. The little lost child that they found wandering in Tashbaan and mistaken for Corin and then met once again on their way to battle had suddenly grown in a blink of an eye, married and now with a child of his own. “King Cor makes an excellent King, while Queen Aravis makes an excellent ruler and partner. Now they are both proud parents of a wonderful Heir and future King.” 

 

“Much younger King and Queen compared to yourself, Your Highness.” spoke up the drunken Dwarf. “Perhaps you should find someone to settle down with. Have your own Heir.” 

 

“I don’t see how that’s possible,” A Hedgehog broke in, a rasp to his voice. “How will we ever find a King that is willing to keep Narnia’s secret?”

 

“Perhaps we can find a low ranking Lord who wouldn’t mind keeping up the illusion?” suggested the Cheetah, joining in on the discussion. 

 

While all were conversing about her future husband, Azalea kept sinking lower and lower in her seat. She was horribly embarrassed and a tug of guilt was pulling at her navel. The secret happened to be that no one outside of Narnia’s borders knew she was Queen Azalea. Instead she was impersonating her older brother, High King Peter the Magnificent. Narnia needed to put up a strong front, no outside force would see Narnia as strong if they knew a Queen ruled it alone. So Narnia played up the image that High King Peter still ruled while Queen Azalea played her own part as it's ruler within. To outsiders nobody knew about her siblings disappearance and that’s how the Narnian’s plan to keep it, or for the time being.

 

Azalea begrudgingly had to admit, for a woman, she was rather tall. She had grown tall like her brothers, stopping just at level with their chins. She was slightly muscular, but agile. With a little adjustment, she could donned her brothers armor for a short period of time and with his helmet you could hardly tell a difference. To the untrained eye that is. 

 

“How will we find any man to marry our Queen?” Peridan said jokingly, sending Azalea a teasing smile. “Prideful and picky the way she is.” 

 

Azalea gave him a playful glare. Secretly, for a time, she had wished that the option of marrying Peridan was open to her. It couldn’t be however, him courting a Noble woman from Anvard since a while back, just before her siblings disappeared. It was a long distance relationship, but they were clearly in love with one another. She would miss him when he went to join her in Archeland. 

 

“Don’t go throwing every available Lord and King at me just yet,” Azalea said, interrupting the conversation. By this point they were considering finding a Wood god for her to marry. “There is no rush and I’m young yet.” 

 

“You need to keep in mind, your Highness. The need to continue on Narnia’s next generation and ruler. You are young, but what of the possibilities of something happening to you?” pointed out a Squirrel, cramming it's mouth with strawberries. 

 

“Nothing will happen to Queen Azalea,” The Leopard that had chided the Dwarf snorted, glaring at the Squirrel who froze under it's feline gaze. “All that will come with time. The right King will come along eventually, Narnia wouldn’t have to keep up the appearance of having a King then, because we will have a King.” 

 

“Yes, we could say High King Peter had retired and gave his place to the new King and his sister, Queen Azalea.” The Hedgehog put in helpfully. Which wasn’t very helpful at all, it only resulted in making Azalea lose her appetite. 

 

“Yes, yes, that might work!” The Squirrel grumbled with his mouth still full. 

 

“Let's put this conversation on hold, until a later time.” Peridan said, his gaze fixed towards the sky. Azalea turned to see what he was looking at. An Eagle soared towards them, it's lustrous gold feathers gleaming on the back of its head and neck. A rolled up parchment tied with a red ribbon clutched in its talons could only mean it was royal business. The Eagle circled their small camp, before dropping down beside Azalea. 

 

“A letter has arrived from Calormen, your Highness.” The Eagle said, dropping the letter in Azalea’s waiting palm. 

 

Azalea unrolled it, tossing the ribbon onto the table. She read over it carefully, her brow’s scrunching together before humming. The rest of the table’s occupancy waited with warped attention, waiting for her to finish before questioning the contents of the letter. 

 

“It seems that Rabadash has accepted the renewal of the peace treaty between Calormen and Narnia. He will send his brother, Caspian I, to be stand in monarch in his place.” Azalea remarked, leaning against the arm rest. “I never heard of a Caspian I, which Prince is he?”

 

“He’s not a Prince at all,” Peridan remarked, scuffing at the mention of Rabadash. Peridan was there during the battle at Anvard. “He’s the third child, that is true. But he’s also a bastard, the illegitimate child of the former Tisroc. They find him a rather embarrassment to their family name, although I heard he is a formidable warrior as well as a strategist and seafarer.” 

 

“He has no claim to the throne of Calormen then?” Azalea questioned, rather interested. 

 

“Unless all his other family members were to die off, than no.” Peridan took another sip of his wine, his eyes staring thoughtfully at the parchment. “Perhaps Caspian I will be more pleasant and compliant than his oldest brother had been.” 

 

“Anyone with even a drop of Telmarine blood can’t be trusted,” declared the drunken Dwarf, now practically rolling on the ground. “All liars and backstabbers, I swear by the Lion’s mane.” 

 

“Why would Rabadash send his half-brother, instead of the second eldest? Surely if Caspian I is such an embarrassment to the rest of his family, why send him? Wouldn’t they rather want to keep him hidden away?” 

 

“Perhaps it's Rabadash’s way of sending an insult, by having his bastard brother bridge an alliance between Narnia and Calormen in place of the King. It would seem a little insulting, to have a bastard instead of an available legitimate sibling form the treaty. It would show how little this unity means to the people of Calormen.” Peridan shrugged, eating another peach. 

 

“It’s hard to find much insult from a man who had once been turned into an Ass.” Azalea felt a spike of vicious pleasure at the memory of him being turned into a Donkey. 

 

“I concur, your Majesty.” Laughed the Leopard, coming to curl itself around her chair. 

 

It were moments like these that made Azalea regret that Goldenrod and Bright Eye’s couldn’t be there to join in on the fun. They were on some scouting party that Orion was overseeing, strange activity was going on down near Beaversdam. A Narnian town far west of Narnia’s Kingdom, where in fact the town of Beaversdam sits where the dam of Mr. and Mrs. Beaver was once situated. The couple had moved farther upstream and lived happily within the community and their new neighbors. Azalea made a point to visit at least every other month, though paperwork and the unexpected meeting does cut into her schedule planning. 

 

“When shall we be expecting our Calormen ambassador?” The Cheetah asked curiously, snapping Azalea out of her thoughts. 

 

“States here we shall be expecting them...in about eight weeks.” Azalea said, looking over the letter again, frowning in confusion. 

 

“That seems an absurd amount of time to put this off.” The Hedgehog scuffed, shaking its head with clear disapproval. “How hard is it to come sign a piece of paper that had been a standard agreement since the previous Tisroc?” 

 

“Perhaps Rabadash is still settling in his role as ruler and wants to hold off till he feels more comfortable on his own throne, then he’ll start working on outside issues?” Azalea theorized. Getting skeptical and unsure looks from her companions with her theory. 

 

“Who can tell what goes on in the mind of such a mad King.” the Squirrel chirped, moving along the edge of the table. For it would seem very rude if he had gone straight across. Till he stopped before Azalea’s chair. “Though let's put aside such topics of mad Kings, and instead allow her Highness to deminstraight her archery skills.” 

 

“You know a sword better suits me, Poppy,” Azalea said, watching in detached interest as the Squirrel started winding the discarded ribbon around his tail. It was true she had taken up archery alongside her sword fighting sessions. Although she would never be as great as Queen Susan. “But I see no harm with a bit of practice.” 

 

Azalea glanced at the Rabbit, who had been edgy and very quiet since the moment the Eagle had appeared. “Ronald,” Azalea called to the Rabbit, making him freeze up in surprise. “Would you go fetch my belt quiver, and bow. Their hanging on a low knot on the tree over there,” she gestured off to the side, where a small tree grew beside their tent. “They should be light enough for you, don’t mind if they drag on the ground.” 

 

The Rabbit looked so relieved to be doing something, and out of sight of the Eagle, that he instantly hopped off to do as asked. Azalea quickly found a quill and some ink, that was found in a chest that they had brought in emergencies like these, and wrote up a reply. Untangling the ribbon from around Poppy’s tail she rolled up the parchment and tied it up. Before offering it to the Eagle to take back to Cair Paravel. Where, Orion would no doubt be waiting for a reply. 

 

Azalea watched the Eagle launch itself back into the sky, it's large wings flapping in long strokes that brought it towards the clouds and eventually out of sight. She turned back at the cough of Ronald, who held up the bow for her to grasp in her left hand. “Thank you Ronald,” Azalea said, picking up her belt quiver that were filled with arrows. She tied the belt around her waist, over her chainmail shirt. The arrows inside gently rattled as they knocked against her thigh when she walked. She hummed to herself, shifting the bow from hand to hand as she looked for a target. Her companions stayed where they were, watching their Queen with rapt attention.

 

Cornflower blue eyes scanned the landscape around her, before resting on an apple laying innocently in the palm of Peridan’s hand. ‘They do want a show’ Azalea thought, a bit of a mischievous smile creeping on her lips. Although she had a twinge of doubt about her idea, if her angle was off, if she didn’t aim at the right height, or if someone moved….She thought the heck with it as she aimed the bow flawlessly, her body placed perpendicular with her chosen target and her feet shoulder-width apart. She nocked her arrow, her right index finger held above the arrow and her middle and ring fingers below. She drew her hand back, all the way to her cheekbone, she aimed at the tasty looking fruit, then, she released. 

 

It happened so fluidly, so precise, so fast that none of her companions had time to react till the apple was shot out of Lord Peridan’s hand and embedded into the outer wooden support beam. It was however, around that time the drunk Dwarf began loudly laughing, bellowing out his amusement in deep, hearty whoops. A cry leaving his lips, “There’s the main reason we can’t find a King!” 

 

0o0o0o

 

“They made a report of seeing horses--” Orion was interrupted by an exaggerated cough that drew attention to the Red Dwarf, Master Diggle. 

 

“We see horses all the time,” he scuffed, crossing his arms. “I don’t see the great concern.” 

 

“--With human riders.” Orion continued on. 

 

“I don’t find it alarming as the locals seem to think it is, they could just have been passing through. Narnia has had human travelers before, or are we monitoring every human that suddenly wanders onto Narnian land now?” Asked another Lord, looking unimpressed with the discussion. 

 

“The sightings are frequent and had seemed to be more than a one man party, perhaps a group even. I had some personnel sent to check it out, they claim that the visits from our unknown guest’s have been frequent and rather recent.” Orion cut in, his obvious dominance in the room drawing attention. 

 

Azalea turned to look at him as well, her body wanting to move cause she swears her butt was growing soars, but repressed the urges anyway. She picked at her red gown, gold lace decorated the top half of the dress. The sleeves reached only to her elbows, tying off on each end with golden ribbons. Her crown sat on her head, doing it's charm in distracting the eye from her untamable mass of hair. 

 

“Could it be a possible invasion?” asked someone else, Azalea lost track of who spoke this or who spoke that, she merely listened with growing unease. 

 

“It could simply be a hunting party from Anvard that wandered too far while searching for it's stag.”

 

“Or it could be scouts from our enemies ready to exploit our weaknesses and faults.” 

 

“You’ve always been a paranoid sort, Lord Diggle!” 

 

“At least I have common sense on the matter, Lord Horn!” 

 

“Enough!” Orion called, hushing the squabbling council, a duty that Azalea should have seen too. “Let’s all remain calm, and think about this logically.”

 

“Not much to think on, someone is making trouble.” 

 

“Well I say we’re all blowing this whole situation out of proportions. Making mountains out of mole hills.” 

 

“I’ll be sure to throw that back in your face when the mole is slain over his hole.” 

 

“This could be a simple misunderstanding without jumping to--”

 

“They might be plotting right--”

 

“Stop it, just stop it!” Azalea couldn’t take anymore, her head hurt, her body ached, her stomach rolled with tension and on this day counts as the fifth month since her siblings--She couldn’t take anymore, picking up her skirts Azalea bolted from the room, leaving surprised shouts far behind her as she fled. 

 

She didn’t care where she was going, choosing a direction with few obstacles as possible at random, the blurry faces of her subjects catching her eye every now and then as she raced past them. It was only when she was shoving open a servant quarters door did she realized that she had entered out the side courtyard, finding herself at the apple orchard. Straight rows of apple trees as far as her blurry vision could tell, stood before her. 

 

She took off down one of the rows at a dead run. She was near hysterical, her shoulders shook with uncontrollable, body shaking sob’s although her eyes remained dry. An emotional pain filled moan vibrated deep in her throat, which would have came to a full on wail if she hadn’t been running, when her footing became uncoordinated, tripping over her dress that kept slipping from trembling fingers. She stumbled, and took a tumble down the slope. Coming to a stop mid-way, which didn’t harm her much. 

 

She just laid there, on her stomach, the side of her face pressed into the dirt. The grass tickling her nose but she found no will to rub at it. Laying right there, amongst the dirt and grass and overhanging trees, she had no one to worry about, not even herself. She wanted to rewind, rewind to months ago when all she had to worry about is not getting caught stealing pasties from the kitchens before dinner. Where she dreaded having to join Lucy and Susan to get fitted for new wardrobe come winter months. Where she listened and looked at maps, as Edmund talked about all sorts of findings across Narnia during one of his flights with the griffins. When dinner was called and her family would join together and they would talk about their day or gossip and Peter would sit at the head of a long banquet table and--

 

What Azalea hated most about the great hall, were the four unoccupied thrones. Two on each side of her, reminded her that she was alone in this. Every obstacle, ever complaint, ever complicated question must be decided and answered by her now. She never felt the desire to rule, no longing whatsoever, she couldn’t stand the responsibility of having so many counting on her, she practically held their lives in the palms of her hands, she didn’t want that power. But she did, she did hold the Narnian’s livelihoods of her people in her care. She knew she was their ruler and knew her people needed her, but she didn’t want to be the one to dictate the course of the lives of the Narnian’s.

 

Ever since her siblings disappearance, they had all looked to her for an answer, one she did not have. When problems arose, they looked to her, she didn’t know how to solve them. When a vote came to cast she didn’t know which to vote in favor of. Give her a sword and direct her at the enemy and she’d do it, but ask her to lead--

 

\--She was no leader. She was a follower at heart, she was too unruly and free spirited to be a firm ruler. She always had her siblings to always filter that part of her, during wars she listened to either Peter’s or Edmund’s orders and when she did, she got them done. She was courageous, that is true, but she still had her doubts and she made bad decisions. Some she knew could be more costly than others. And that terrifies her. But now, with no one else to look up too, she had to find it within herself to lead her people. The Narnian’s deserve better than what she offered, but she didn’t know what she was doing at times. She felt she was fumbling in the dark. Grasping at straws. She felt like a cheap replacement in the spot that her other siblings had once filled.

 

“I do enjoy a good roll myself now and then, your Highness,” Azalea glanced up as a shadow casted over her, Gringelot’s hoofs stopping a watermelons length away from her head. “But may I inquire why you are doing so, I never meet a human who rolled.”

 

“How many humans have you met anyway, Gringelot?” Azalea asked, laughing lightly as she pushed herself into a sitting position. 

 

“Personally? Six. Distantly? About an army’s worth.” Gringelot humored, coming to lay beside her. His flank warm under her hand as she gently stroked his back. “Unless you count Centaurs then I’ve lost track.” 

 

“Gringelot?” Azalea spoke up again, sounding a little unsure after a moment of silence. “Have you ever wanted to be King of horses?”

 

“There are no King’s amongst horses, we are herds.” Gringelot pointed out slowly, as if to a child. “Though in a theoretical sense, no. I’m happy just the way I am.” 

 

“Laying in the sunshine while being fed whenever you want,” Azalea chuckled, scratching Gringelot behind the ear, making him whine in pleasure. “I sometimes wish I wasn’t either.” she added on more softly, drawing back within herself. Gringelot turned his head towards her, blinking deep brown knowing eyes at her. 

 

“You have greatness thrust upon you, your Highness,” Gringelot stated, gently nosing her cheek that was suddenly wet, why was it wet? “Responsibilities and decisions that you struggle with alone. Though it hadn’t always been that way, you still had responsibilities and duties, just in a lighter load. Now the full weight of it has spilled all in your lap and you think your drowning in it, but take a moment, take a sudden moment to stop and collect yourself. Let your mind wander back, back to more happier times and then, then you move forward. Create happier times for you and the people of Narnia in the now, don’t worry for the future when the day has yet to end and moving on doesn't mean forgetting. It simply multiplies the happy times you spend in life, the struggles and difficulties, their worth it in the end. They’ve always have been, you need not worry. You may not see yourself as a Queen, but your our Queen even without the title. You’ve earned it in your own way, be the best version of you. That’s all we care for.”

 

“Oh, Gringelot, my lazy foolishly steed--how come you always know what to say?” Azalea buried her face in the horses black mane and sobed. 

 

“Lazy? I have y--” Gringelot cut his protest short, blowing hard from his nostrils. Azalea continued to cry on him till she tired herself out, and fell into a dreamless sleep.

 

 

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please review!


	4. A Queen's Awakening

Chapter 4: A Queen's Awakening

 

 

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A shining new era is tiptoeing nearer. “Be prepared” --The Lion King.

 

 

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Azalea rode on Grineglot at the front of her company. Three Centaurs, dressed in palace guard apparel, followed close behind. Goldenrod and Bright Eye’s trailing them along with a Leopard who had a keen-eye for detail. 

 

The patrol emerged to the outskirts of Beaversdam, a quiet community northwestern of Narnia. Azalea dismounted, leather riding boots that stopped just below her knees squashed in the mud. A drizzle of rain had fallen the night before, so a heavy mist laid across the forest, making the small town of Beaversdam look eerie and sinister. 

 

“Your excellency, thank you for coming on such short notice.” a voice called out, a small furry body appearing from the mist. It was a Mole. “I know a patrol was here a mere week ago, but I thought the need to report another sighting was best and with the inhabitants of Beaversdam so shaken up, I thought another patrol would be able to calm their nerves--”

 

“Friend, Friend,” Azalea held up a gloved hand, silencing the Mole’s rambling. “You did right by reporting these sightings. An investigation would need to be put into place, right away in fact.” Azalea gestured to the Centaurs, who took their cues. Each Centuare split up, each paired with a dog or Leopard to search the woods surrounding Beaversdam. 

 

“Thank you, your Majesty.” The Mole visibly relaxed, looking more calmer since he had first appeared. 

 

“Tell me, when had these sightings begin and what exactly have you been seeing?” Azalea asked, coming to walk beside the waddling Mole. Leaving Gringelot to doze off where he stood.

 

The Mole looked thoughtful for a moment. Wringing it's paws together, head twitching from side to side. “Truthfully I haven’t personally seen these riders. My neighbor, Miss. Honeycomb, a rather jumpy Badger but with a good heart, says she seen them out in early morning. Lurking about before vanishing.” 

 

“Vanishing?” Azalea echoed, the situation getting more and more bizarre. 

 

“They don’t do much else, apparently. Miss. Honeycomb says they simply wait and watch, then leave. Very strange.” The Mole concluded, seeming a bit embarrassed. 

 

“Strange indeed.” Azalea agreed, placing her hands on her hips. Her right hand, rested on the hilt of her sword that connected to her belt. “Mind taking me to this, Miss. Honeycomb. I would like to hear her side of these events.” 

 

“Of course your Majesty,” The Mole side right away. “Although Miss. Honeycomb will be beside herself on such a late notice to prepare for a royal visit.” 

 

 

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“Oh, Your Majesty, this is such a surprise.” exclaimed a female Badger, who opened the door to a cozy, moderate sized looking burrow. She looked completely taken off guard, before trying to smooth out her black-and-white fur. “I plead forgiveness for looking such a mess, I was out tending to my garden just awhile ago. Was just about to freshen up. You see, I raise the best radishes in all of Narnia and they need tending too so often and...oh, listen to me, going on and on about radishes when royalty is standing right before me! Please, come in, come in, and tell me what brings you here.” 

 

“I’m sorry to disturb you at this hour,” Azalea said, having to duck in order to get through the door. The Mole, who had introduced himself as Fertinan, followed just behind her. “I am here to ask about these strange sightings, I am informed that you have seen them personally.” 

 

“It’s no trouble, none at all.” Miss. Honeycomb said, gesturing for Azalea to take the most comfortable chair in the house. Which was yellow, and very plush that Azalea nearly sunk into it. “May I offer you something, tea? A snack? How about some of my famous radish soup?” ” before Azalea could refuse any of those suggestions, the Badger was already hurrying off to a wood-stove and starting a kettle to boil.

 

“Whimsical she is,” Fertinan said, sitting down on a wooden stool. “Very flighty, but with a good heart. She also does make the best radishes in all of Narnia.”

 

Azalea hummed, self consciously running a hand over her attire. A creamy white tunic with long puffy sleeves, underlaid by a leather jerkin. A pair of cotton pants with lacing clung to her legs, the ends tucked into her boots. She carried her sword at her hip, and a pale red cloak was slung over her shoulders, the hood pulled down. Her blonde hair was free with tangled curls from the ride, the crown sitting hazardly in the mess. She felt uncomfortable, her nose red and runny due to the sudden change of temperature. 

 

She accepted the tea graciously, along with the radish soup. Not wanting to feel rude by not doing so. She found the tea overly sweet, practically drowned with cream. Although the rabish soup lived up to Miss. Honeycombs claims. Once she finished the soup, she set it aside on a nearby table and turned her full attention to the badger. 

 

“Miss. Honeycomb, can you recall these stranger sightings, these horse-riders, in fine detail for me. Or as close as you can?” Azalea leaned backwards in the seat, gently leaning on the backrest with her arms folded in her lap. 

 

Miss. Honeycomb took a tentative sip of her tea, looking troubled and slightly frightened. “I saw them about a fortnight ago, just three days after the other patrol was here. I was out in my garden, tending to my radishes. All of a sudden I hear something strange, horse trampling. Now normally we don’t get horses way out here, the occasionally Donkey of course. Though these were too light for the heavy hooves of a Donkey. So I look up from tilling the soil, and through the trees I see them. Now I don’t have the best of eye’s for seeing long distances, but I know when I see horses and human riders. So I freeze up, scared to death, thinking they’ve come to steal my radishes. When strangely enough, they just turn around and disappear!” 

 

“What did they look like? Can you recall what they looked like? Were they Archelanders?” Azalea questioned, watching as Miss. Honeycomb squirmed in her chair. 

 

“Unfortunately all I could tell was they were human.” Miss. Honeycomb admitted, looking rather embarrassed. 

 

That didn’t tell Azalea much, being human and looking around wasn’t enough to state the intentions these riders harbored. It could range from a simple hunting party that is wandering to far into Narnia territory, to travelers, adventure seekers, or simply curious riders. On the over hand, they could be bandits, although wouldn't they have attacked by now if they were bandits? Bandits wouldn’t wait so long to attack and honestly what valuables do the talking-beasts have that would interest bandits?

 

“Thank you, Miss. Honeycomb,” Azalea said, putting down her half-drunken tea and standing up. “For all your help, I must be off now.” 

 

“It had been such an honor having you, Your Majesty.” Miss. Honeycomb said, standing hurriedly to bow. Azalea regarded this with a nod, and took her leave. Fertinan did not follow her out, instead opting to stay longer with Miss. Honeycomb. 

 

Azalea stood outside the burrow, stretching cramped muscles. She had to bend in order to fit in Miss. Honeycomb’s home. The stretch popped her back and shoulders. The mist had cleared a little, though she could not spot any of her companions. Looking over she noticed Miss. Honeycomb’s radish garden, bright red radishes poking out of the ground in neat rows. A fence enclosing the garden, keeping out unwanted danger to the vegetables. 

 

There was a strange, calming beauty about them that made her just want to stare a while. She didn’t dare lean against the garden fence as she admired the radishes, in fear she might knock it down. Quite ridiculous she would reflect later, to find such interest in radishes of all things. She wondered what Miss. Honeycomb’s secret technique was that made them taste so good, they were scrumptious in the soup. 

 

A snapping sound drew her out of her simple musing. Over the radishes. And centered her focus instead of the sound, like hoofs. At first she thought it was the Centaurs, though neither Bright Eyes, Goldenrod or the Leopard seemed to be with them. She didn’t dwell on it to much, the partners could have split up. Although she specifically told them to stay with one another. She walked around the perimeter of the garden, and walked up the misty forest slope. Where the sounds seem to come from. She kept to the trees, using their branches to help pull herself up the slope. 

 

As she trudged up the moss covered slope, a feeling of apprehension began to gnaw at her stomach. A feeling of dread, like something bad was just waiting for her. She felt rather silly for the feeling, here she was, known for her courage and she was frightened of a bit of noise and some mist. 

 

She focused instead on the mushrooms that covered the ground, if she hadn’t been concentrating on not tumbling backwards as she scaled the slope. She might have made an attempt to kick or possibly stomp on them. Though instead, she simply counted as many as possible. She had counted about thirty-nine when she finally reached the top, which overlooked the Great River. 

 

The river rushed on, un-thawed in the heat of summer. She remembered so long ago when it had been frozen, when they had been cornered by the White Witches secretly police. The wolves snarling and their only protection was Peter’s sword. She remembered having Lucy pushed up behind her, Susan shielding them both. Then Peter thrusting his sword into the ice, shattering it. She swore they nearly drowned, she didn’t like to remember that experience much. Although she did eventually get over the fear of it.

 

Her eyes skimmed over the landscape, trying to see any of the guards or the Greyhound siblings. At first, she wasn’t sure how she could have missed them, she saw no one and thought the noise she had heard earlier was just the sound of the Great River. Until she looked back, on the opposite side of the Great River, up near the top of the bank, were horses. That didn’t faze her, the humans on the horses did. 

 

The whole talk about seeing humans, seeming to terrorize the occupancy of Beaversdam. It hadn’t really sunk in until now, seeing them for herself was quite shocking indeed. Clad in dark cloaks, were about four riders in all. Armed with what looked like bow’s of a kind that is fixed across a wooden support and has a groove for the arrow and a mechanism for drawing and releasing the string. It certainly wasn’t a bow any Narnian would use. 

 

She took a step down from her side of the bank, the Great River separating the two sides. Her movement must have drawn their attention, because the next thing she knew they had turned their horses the other way and were galloping away before she could call out to them. If she had Gringelot and one of the Greyhound’s with her at that moment, she might have been able to cross farther down the river and gone after them. Instead however, she could only watch helplessly along with a twinge of frustration as they got away. 

 

 

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“It’s not getting any smaller.” Azalea moaned, rubbing the bridge of her nose. She threw the parchment back onto the not done pile. So far the pile of not done reports was larger than the done pile. 

 

“Perhaps if you don’t try to do them all at once, then you might see your progress.” Orion tried to comfort. The Centaur stood beside her desk, writing up a report of his own. Azalea sent him a helpless look. 

 

“If I didn’t push myself to do them in the first place, I probably wouldn’t do any of them.” Azalea grumbled, wanting to bang her head against the mahogany desk. Though that might lead to a very nasty headache. 

 

“I must admit, doing reports aren’t the most fun activity.” Orion chuckled, setting the report down in front of her to be signed. She looked over it, finding it to be the preparation list for the feast in honor of the Calormen monarchs. She caught glimpses of what the chiefs would be making, potato stew, stuffed cabbage rolls, cream and mushroom soup, spicy seafood salad, lemon drizzle cake and much more. It all looked delicious, she sighed right away. 

 

“Of course they aren’t, it's all work.” Azalea sighed once more, looking at her pitiful done pile. Orion gaze a hum of sympathy and picked up the not done pile from the table. 

 

“Perhaps you should take a break for awhile, I can look these over for you and inform you if it's anything urgent.” Orion smiled, watching as Azalea’s eyes glowed with appreciation. “Reports are my speciality after all.” 

 

“Really Orion, you’d do that for me?” Azalea exclaimed, not believing her luck. When Orion nodded, Azalea was so happy that she stood up to hug him. “Thank you, you’ve been the most thoughtful and kindest adviser and friend.” she gave him a hard squeeze around the middle, before sweeping out of the room. Leaving Orion to do the reports and to shake his head with mirth.

 

 

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Azalea raced quickly down the hall, her head spinning at all the possibilities now that she didn’t have to do the reports. Her feet took her to her bedchambers, the dark brown wooden door with huge ornate iron hinges surrounded by decorative stone archway pushed open under her hand. Her bedchambers consisted of two rooms, the main room consisting of white stone walls. A large bed with feathered mattress placed in the center of the room, the headboard pushed against up against the wall. Bronze colored canopy curtains were pulled back around the bed, revealing the sheep wool blanket that covered the bed. Along with a bunch of pillows, only two being her favorites which were a unicorn tapestry throw pillow and the other being a deer. 

Pushed up against the foot of the bed, was a leather wooden chest. Her more personal items were placed in it, like books, her sword and armor, her favorite pair of sheepskin gloves, a golden chest set, and her siblings personal artifacts. 

 

Her vanity was against the opposite wall, shampoos, oils, her white-ivory comb and brush were placed in a little white wooden box. She had a jewelry box that she hardly ever touched, unless it was a special occasion. She had a pair of black onyx dangle earrings that Susan gifted her for her birthday. She also had a pair of pearl earrings and matching necklace that Edmund had gotten for her on one of his voyages to the Lone Islands. Her favorite to wear during special occasions had to be the conjoint gift from Peter and Lucy, consisting of a set of blue rose stud earrings with tiny diamonds dotted around the edges and a matching blue rose locket necklace. She also had a velvet pillow sitting on the vanity, for her crown. 

 

A writing desk was set up against the far window, overlooking the sea. Her quill set was scattered around on it, along with parchments and half-used sealing-wax. She also had an Oil lamp, for when she worked late in the night or just couldn’t sleep and wanted to read. 

 

She had a wardrobe. A painful irony she would suffer whenever she even looked at it. That was filled to bursting with dresses and gowns, cloaks, coats, trousers, shirts, skirts, cotton nightgowns, belts, boots, slippers, heeled shoes, hats, and the occasional armor piece that would end up there at times instead of the chest. 

 

A full length cheval floor mirror was positioned beside her bed, allowing her to check her appearance every morning when she awoke and every night when she went to sleep. She also had a side table with chair, along with another plush chair and footstool. 

 

The other room was a garderobe, which consisted of the toilet and washbasin. Along with the bathtub and a wooden footstool. 

 

She practically pranced towards her leather wooden chest. She unlatched the lid and after a quick survey, pulled out a book atlas, filled with a collection of maps. Coming to sit in her plush chair she flipped the book open and just stared at the maps. She liked looking them over, thinking about all the places that she had been. She hasn't gone anywhere since her siblings disappeared, she never had the time. Running Narnia was a hard job, although she knew she would have to go see how the Lone Islands were doing sooner or later. 

 

Azalea especially liked Narrowhaven. Which was located on the island of Doorn. Narrowhaven was the largest city, which also housed the seat of the Governor. She remembered her last visit, the last visit with her siblings. She remembered the Governor and duke fondly, he was a jolly man with a beautiful wife and daughter. Peter couldn’t make it, because of some border conflict. So it had been Azalea, Edmund, Lucy and Susan. They had received a warm welcome from the Governor and his family, with a big welcome feast in honor of the Narnian royals. 

There had been a joust, which Edmund participated in. Azalea would have too, if she hadn’t still been recovering from her sea-sickness. Instead she had stayed in the stands and watched with Susan and Lucy, along with the Governor's wife and daughter. Azalea found their company nice, although she could have gone the rest of her life without the Governor's daughter going on and on about how handsome Edmund was. 

 

There had also been a masquerade ball, which had been fun. Susan wore a ostrich feather dress with detachable overskirt, with a white feather mask. Lucy had gone with a monarch butterfly dress, and matching butterfly mask. Azalea had gone with a valkyrie rider armor dress, with a double winged headdress. Edmund had gone in a gladiator costume and danced the night away with the Governor's daughter. Azalea was pretty sure that the Governors daughter had cried when they had left, most likely due to the fact that Edmund hadn’t proposed or offered to court her. Like she had hinted heavily at. 

 

The times wandering the markets with Lucy and Susan, searching from stand to stand, just wandering until something interesting caught their eyes. Which in Susan’s case was always jewelry or clothes. Lucy had found a flute that she never learned to play. While Azalea found an oil paint set, that turned into a great big mess when it got accidentally crushed under the hooves of a Faun when they were sailing back home. She also liked the bakers, blacksmiths, and the shoe cobbler was a very nice stop for a pair of new boots. It all had been a grand time, she missed those times dearly. 

 

She flipped through the rest of the atlas, all the way to the end. Which ended on a blank, open space that was titled unknown. Nobody knew what lies beyond the Lone Island, an unknown region that no sailor had ventured. Azalea had sometimes fantasize about sailing beyond the Lone Island, that however, would always remain a fantasy. The Narnian’s were shaken up enough over four missing King’s and Queen’s, they didn't need the stress of her sailing out to who knows where. Especially without her married or an heir. 

 

Azalea sighed as she closed the book. Putting it back in her chest, she walked over to her bed and flopped backwards into the soft sheepskin blanket ungracefully. She stared blankly up at the canopy, insignificant thoughts flickering across her mind now and again. She wondered what would have happened if she hadn’t caught a cold that day, when her siblings went out hunting for the White Stag. If she had went with them instead of staying back at the castle, bundled in her blankets with Miss. Lyde taking care of her. 

 

The fear she felt was unimaginable when it grew dark and her siblings hadn’t returned. Patrols were sent out to search for them, for days, for weeks, till it became months and the hope of finding them had slowly died.

 

She sometimes wished she had gone, cold or no cold. She would have been with her family, whatever had happened to them at least they would all have been together. Then she would feel guilty at the thought of leaving the Narnian’s leaderless. Without her, what would the Narnian’s do? It would have probably have fallen into a dark age for Narnia, with a decline in economic prosperity, and a social collapse. There would have been a power struggle, without them ever leaving any known heir or successor. 

 

Azalea shivered at the mental image, so many Narnian’s suffering due their rulers absence. So compared with the alternative, the Narnian’s are clinging tightly to their last remaining monarch, Azalea. 

 

Closing her eyes for a brief moment, she tried to recall her siblings faces. Alarmed she sat erect, a gasp leaving her lips. She couldn’t recall their faces. She knew Peter had blonde hair, but what color was his eyes? She tried to think if Edmund had freckles or not and came up blank. Susan had long hair but was it black or dark brown? Lucy, oh her dear sweet Lucy, did she have fair skin or had it tanned? She ran a shaking hand through her short hair, harshly pulling at the tangled mess as she panicked. How could she not remember what they looked like? They were family, they, they...she wouldn’t admit it, but she cried. Nasty, loud, ugly tears that left the skin red and splotchy. She pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes, wanting them to stop although they wouldn’t. 

 

She fell back on the bed, her body shuddering. Self-revolution rolled off of her in waves. How could she, how dare she forget them. How dare she not look for them harder. How dare they be taken away from her. How dare they for leaving her all alone. 

 

She rolled over on her side, her body curling into the fetal position. She cried and trembled as she hugged herself. Seeking comfort from herself through a surge of anxiety. 

 

 

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Review!


	5. A Queen's Retreat

Chapter 5: A Queen's Retreat

 

 

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Lightning makes no sound until it strikes. -- Martin Luther King. 

 

 

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They came two weeks earlier than scheduled, leaving the Narnian’s unprepared and caught off guard. With fleets of warships that were heavily armed with bows, swords, catapults and skilled soldiers. It was in the dead of night. While the residence of Cair Paravel slumbered in their beds, blissfully unaware of the pending assault. Their lanterns were blown out, using the cover of the new moon to go unseen by the Narnian guards on watch. Their sails were lowered and boats positioned parallel with the shore. The catapults were drawn back, each loaded with ridged heavy metal projectiles. They held at the ready, each aimed at the walls of Cair Paravel. 

 

Then, in a position like a flock of migrating geese, a single lantern was lit at the bow of the lead ship. Like a glowing tidal wave that had been held back by a single rock, the rest of the boats ignited into a raging sea of light that temporarily blinded the guards on duty. 

 

At the bow of the leading ship, a single sword was raised. Then, with steel in his eyes, the man lowered the blade. And with that one action, the snapping of pulled levers filled the night and rained doom upon Cair Paravel. 

 

0o0o0o

 

Azalea was snuggled under her sheepskin blanket. In a sleep that didn’t bring any dream’s, only a sweet oblivion. So it came as quite a surprise when a horrible, pounding boom came out of nowhere. It shocked her out of her sleep, making her wrench off her covers and stumble over towards her window. Her eyes fighting the blurriness of sleep and her feet struggling to find momentum. The black curtains were pulled aside, a blinding light assaulted her eyes forcing her to look away. Another loud boom made her give more of an effort to see, a large crack had appeared upon the window glass. 

 

There could be no words to describe the intense feeling of shock, terror, and consternation that ran through her entire body. A dizzy feeling swept over her, making her knees shake and slightly sway unsteadily on her feet. Her gut hurt and bile rose in her throat, making her feel faint. An armada had appeared on Narnian shores, an entire fleet of warships lighting up the once silent and peaceful night. 

 

She shook her head harsly, trying to overcome the need to vomit. She was a Queen, she had a duty, her people needed her. She toppled over as another assault attacked the parapet, the roof chipping debris down on her. She slithered across the floor, flinching with each echoing hit that Cair Paravel took. 

 

With shaking hands she unlatched her leather wooden chest. Pulling out her armor chest plate, she pulled it over her cotton nightgown. Instinctively reaching inside for the mahogany colored leather belt and wrapped it tightly around her waist. Lucy’s dagger held securely in its holster. She fumbled for a moment, tossing out her books in search of her sword but finding it missing. Her eyes caught Peter’s sword, Rhindon. She couldn’t hesitate, she grabbed her brothers sword. Edmund’s shield was pulled out next, set aside with Peter’s sword. She tried to find Susan’s horn, but a blast shattered her window entirely. Making a short scream emit from her throat. She didn’t have anymore time, she fled the room. Taking with her Peter’s sword, Edmund’s shield, Lucy’s dagger and a pair of boots. Leaving behind everything else, all her possessions, personal memories, her sanctuary, all to be destroyed. 

 

 

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“Orion, Orion!” Azalea screamed, her eyes darting around frantically for her adviser. It was pure chao’s, her subjects ran about her like a disturbed beehive. Narnian’s swarmed all over the place and she was caught in the middle of it. She was unprepared for this unexpected attack, she was unprepared to lead, she needed, needed, needed…

 

“Orion!” Azalea shouted louder, nobody took notice of their Queen, to lost in their own panic. “Orion!” Azalea was desperate to find Orion, he would know what to do. “Orion please, where are you?” tears of frustration pricked at her eyes. She was supposed to know what to do. She shouldn’t be replying on Orion to hold her hand every time something goes wrong. 

 

Azalea heard the sound of her name, making her look to see her hand-maid. “Your Majesty, You must--” Miss. Lyde had stood mere feet ahead of her. Gesturing to her wildly, just ahead of her, before she was crushed by a flying, jagged metal sphere that came straight through the wall as if the castle was made of paper. Azalea wanted to scream in horror but the sound choked in her throat. 

 

“Your Highness!” Azalea whorled around, Bright Eyes stood just behind her, his eyes wide as if he was in a state of shock. “Orion sent me to find you.” 

 

“Take me to him, quickly.” Azalea managed to say, trying to keep up with the canine as he raced down the corridor.

 

Bright Eyes directed her urgently to the castle keep, the large tower seeming to take forever to climb. Especially on bare feet, her boots still dangling in her hand. With her feet scraped, her body in a state of uncontrollable tremors, her stomach revolting and looking rather ghastly in her cotton nightwear with a simple armored chest plate pulled over it. She managed to reach the top, finding Orion standing atop giving orders to the bow-men. Instant relief flooded through her as she reached the landing. Orion was here, he’d know what to do. 

 

Orion turned around at the sound of someone’s approach. He looked shaken, but steeled himself as Azalea quickly joined his side. “Orion what is going on?” Azalea demanded, her voice coming out broken. She shoved her feet harshly in her boots, ignoring the granite that was pushed between her toes. 

 

“It seems Calormen are attacking.” Orion said gravely, his expression grim. 

 

“Attacking? I thought the Telmarines were coming to renew the peace treaty!” Azalea shouted over her panicked subjects and the sound of launched boulder’s pounding away at the battlement. 

 

“It must have all been a cover to take us by surprise.” Orion replied, his eyes turning back to the warships that sailed just out of range of Narnian arrows. They were completely helpless. Azalea felt outraged, an uncontrollable anger simmering in her stomach. Bitter indignation at having been deceived welled up and nearly overflowed in a cry of rage. She wanted to set fire to the skulking, backstabbing cowards who they had extended a hand of peace. 

 

“What do you advise we do, Orion?” Azalea looked towards the noble Centaur, internally begging him to put in his input. She couldn’t do this alone, she needed someone to help direct her in the right direction. 

 

“Your Majesty, I can only give you one suggestion. Flee.” Never in Azalea’s life had she ever thought Orion would suggest running away. They needed to protect Cair Paravel. Narnia’s capitol and their home. 

 

“Orion, have you gone completely mad?” Azalea screeched, nearly knocked down when a boulder came close to the castle keep. Too close. 

 

“Your Highness, we are unprepared for this attack. Even our longest bow could not reach the sea and with those contraptions, Cair Paravel will likely fall by morning.” Orion urged, an arm shooting out to steady her. 

 

“What will we do if we flee?” Azalea pleaded, feeling herself-respect evaporating like mist. 

 

“We will regroup at Aslan’s How,” Orion stated, his eyes reflecting a deep thinking process as he advised. “It is defensible enough, setting up a dig in camp would be ideal. The Calormen may take the beach, though they won't get much farther.” Azalea still looked unsure, she wanted to stay, to defend her home. Orion saw this and placed his hands on both of her shoulders. “Don’t let your emotions rule your decisions. Live to fight another day.” 

 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Tears pooled at the corners of Azalea’s eyes. Standing on the hillside, a steady stream of Narnian’s fleeing past her. She could only sit on the back of Gringelot, her traumatized steed. And watch as Cair Paravel fell. 

 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“We’ll reclaim Cair Paravel.” Goldenrod said, walking beside Azalea as she moved around the compound. The Narnian’s had fled to Aslan’s How, which lies within the Great Woods and was a huge mound which covered the Stone Table. Azalea herself had overseen in constructing the intricate architecture. The Mound was all hollowed out within, segregated into galleries and caves, and the Stone Table was in the central cave of all. There was room in the mound for all their stores, and those of them who have most need of cover and are most accustomed to underground life can be lodged in the caves. The rest lied in the wood. At a pinch they all could retreat into the Mound itself, and there they were beyond the reach of every danger except famine. 

 

She never expect her tribute to Aslan to be used as a battle shelter. It was meant to be a sanctuary, a token of her thanks for all that Aslan had done for them. Instead, although still amazing with it's round green hill on top of another hill, lightly overgrown with trees, and one little, low doorway leading into it. Where the tunnels inside which were a perfect maze till you got to know them, and were lined and roofed with smooth stones, and on the stones were paintings in the form of a Lion which was repeated again and again. It was all supposed to be admired and charm others with its beauty. Now it felt tainted with the angry tension of war.

 

“You mean what’s left of it.” Azalea replied quietly, her heart aching with grief. Scouts had been sent out and once they came back, they had reported the destruction and ruin of Cair Paravel. The Calormen had taken the beach, like Orion had predicted. 

 

“Now, now, don’t think so negatively,” Goldenrod scolded lightly, licking Azalea’s gloved hand in comfort. “Cair Paravel may have been lost, but we must remember that it can always be rebuilt.” 

 

“It won't be the same.” Azalea turned her head, unable to look at the optimistic Greyhound. Everyone expected her to pull through for them, to reclaim Cair Paravel. To drive the Calormen from their shores. To make Narnia great again. Truth was however, she had no clue how to do so. Cair Paravel was lost, destroyed in a single day. Like the saying goes. A forest does not grow in a day, though it can be destroyed in one. The metaphor reflected just what happened with Cair Paravel. All the hard work that was put into Cair Paravel, when defeating the White Witch, when her siblings sat on the thrones, all gone.

 

“Well, no, but we can make it more grand the next time.” Goldenrod assured, blinking eyes that held such hope and trust. It almost made Azalea noxious. 

 

“Perhaps.” Azalea sighed, feeling weary and tired. She supposed it was the armor weighing her down, it was a size too big for her, causing her to wear thicker clothes. The constant threat of attack plagued the Narnian’s, making them paranoid. Azalea kept her armor on at all times, even while she slept. 

 

A scouting party had reported that the Calormen had set up camp along the beach. Beyond that, they made no movement towards the cliffs of Cair Paravel. Yet. It was only a matter of time, as the Dwarfs like to say. 

 

“You seem tired, you have bags under your bags. Why don't you take a rest?” Goldenrod urged, looking worriedly at Azalea. Azalea felt awful for worrying Goldenrod. She felt even more awful that someone noticed her in such a state. 

 

“I can’t, I have to get to a council meeting.” Azalea gestured with her hand in the direction they were going, which lead to the central cave. “Why don’t you go find Bright Eyes and Gringelot, you’ll find better company in their presence.” Azalea didn’t leave Goldenrod any time to make a reply, instead she opted to make a quick getaway through the tunnels. 

 

She passed many rooms that had Dwarfs forging armor, shields, swords and arrows. She hated that their main, and biggest armory located in Cair Paravel, had been destroyed with the castle. All their weapons had to be made out of scraps and whatever they had brought with them. She felt pathetic for being unable to give more to her people. 

 

Azalea quickened her pace, she didn’t want to keep her council waiting. It wasn’t much of a council anymore, many Narnian’s have lost their lives during the fall of Cair Paravel. Now their council was down to a mere handful, Azalea could count them all on one hand. When Azalea came close to the main cavern, she stopped short at the entrance. Her body shielded by a pillar as she heard talking. Had they started without her? Feeling rather low and pathetic, she decided to eavesdrop on her own council. 

 

“--full frontal attack. No hesitation!” A voice exclaimed, rising above the protests of others. 

 

“What do you honestly expect from such a full hearted attack? We’d all be slaughtered!” protested another voice, trying to overlaps the other in a shouting match. 

 

“Better to die fighting on our own soil, than hauled up in here waiting for them to come kill us all.”

 

“Nonsense, they haven’t even left the shore line!” Azalea peeked around the pillar, just enough to see them in the low lighting of the cavern. The cavern was filled with Narnian’s. Orion stood at the left side of the Stone Table. Looking imposing but not making any move to quiet them, he seemed to be watching it all unfold with a scrutinizing gaze. 

 

“Yet! It’s only a matter of time till they come looking for us. When they do we’ll all--” the speaker had been Master Diggle, the Dwarfs cheeks red from shouting. He now sported a makeshift cane, his right foot had been crushed by a fallen piece of wall during the attack on Cair Paravel. 

 

“It will not come to that. We have cover, along with a strong enough force--” the other speaker was Prongs, a very considerate and open minded Badger that sat on Azalea’s council. 

 

“And how do you know that to be true? You’ve been down to the shore have you? Have you seen them walking around like ants? Tents raised along the coast for what seems like miles.” said a Black Dwarf, his beady eyes narrowed hotly on the Badger. 

 

“Narnia may be a small country,” said a Faun who stood next to Orion. “But we're just as powerful as the Calormen.” 

 

“At sea you mean!” snorted the Black Dwarf, his teeth bared in a sneer. “Though our ships were destroyed along with Cair Paravel. Though they wouldn’t do no good anyway, the Calormen would blast holes in our ships before we even left harbor.” 

 

“How many Calormen are there?” Orion spoke up, interrupting the discussion. All eyes turned to him, so did Azalea from where she hide. Orion seemed more a King than advisor with his air of importance and leadership skills. 

 

“I’ve spied on the Calormen since their invasion,” spoke up a Robin. The bird was perch on top of an overhang, along with a few other birds. “It was quite easy to do so. They take no interest in us. They seem not to fear the smaller animals, perhaps they think only a few of us are smart--”

 

“They’d be right.” muttered the Black Dwarf to himself, though Azalea could easily hear him. She wondered how he even joined this meeting, he wasn’t on her council. Than again, in these times they needed all the insight they could get. 

 

“--we’ve concluded, after a time of observation. That there are roughly fifty Telmarines aboard each ship.” The Robin finished, looking pleased with itself and his findings. 

 

“How many ships are there than?” Master Diggle asked, raising a brow at the little bird.

 

The Robin hesitated, turning its head to look back and forth between his companions that also looked hesitant. It was very worrying the way the birds looked at one another, as if reluctant to say. Then the Robin took a breath, and with dread coating his words said; “Ten.” 

 

A silence followed the Robins words, the silence so eerie that it seemed like nobody was in the cavern. Even Master Diggle remained quite. Everyone stood like a statue, even Azalea, who was struggling to process this information. Fifty Telmarines per boat, there was ten boats in all. That was five-hundred, armed, trained soldiers that were being lead to take over Narnia. Those numbers were far superior compared to Narnia’s. It was four-to-one, Narnia being the lesser number. 

 

Azalea wanted nothing more than to go back the way she came and forget about the meeting all together. Which she found very cowardly. She knew she couldn’t, she was Queen and Narnia needed her to rule it. Taking a deep breath, Azalea took a few steps back, making her footsteps this time more loud and noticeable. When she appeared all eyes where on her, some held looks of surprise, as if they had forgotten about her. Though all were quick to bow as she approached to stand before them, Orion standing on her left side as she stood directly in front of the Stone Table. 

 

“Cair Paravel has fallen,” Azalea began, her mouth tasting sour with the words. “Those we had reached a hand of peace towards have betrayed us. They had taken the beach and left us no choice but to retreat. I will not lie--” Azalea licked her chapped lips, her stomach turning. “We are low on provisions, our main armory destroyed, many of our kin and brethren have been slain and many families have been put into hiding, our army is small and I fear that the Calormen will be on the move in a matter of days.” murmurs went up, sounding angry, others worried and some even scared. 

 

“What about our allies to the south? Have we received word from them?” Asked a grizzly bear, who stood on two feet. 

 

“Unfortunately we have had no word from our friends to the south.” Azalea proclaimed, getting disgruntled grunts from most of the assembled Narnian’s. She couldn’t blame them, it had been about a week since a patrol lead by Lord Peridan was sent to recieve help. So far they had heard no word from him or anyone else on the patrol. It worried her, seeing as Lord Peridan, Mr. Tumnus, Mr. and Mrs. Beaver, and a few other Narnian’s were on the patrol. She wanted to send out a patrol to search for them, but she couldn’t spread her army any thinner than it was. 

 

“Outnumbered, out matched, no help from our supposed allies, what do we have to lose if we throw ourselves at them in a full frontal attack?” Master Diggle persisted, commenting from their earlier conversation. The one that Azalea overheard. 

 

“You don’t know that we don’t have help from our allies to the south.” scolded a Faun, their finger wagging in disapproval. 

 

“Face it, we’re on our own!” retorted the Black Dwarf, his fist shaking in rage. 

 

“We’re never alone, cause we have Aslan on our side.” Everyone froze at the mention of the Great Lion, the mere mention of Aslan sent a warmth unlike any other through Azalea. Aslan was the essence of hope for the Narnian people. He was beautiful as he was terrifying, wild as he was good, love and justice. 

 

“Aslan hadn’t been seen since our other Queen’s and King’s disappeared. So I don’t expect much help from him.” The Black Dwarf said, his voice sharp and to the point. 

 

“There is no answer for Aslan’s silence,” Orion spoke up, towering intimidatingly over everyone else while giving the Dwarf an unreadable look. “But for whatever reason, Aslan will always be with us.” 

 

“I wish he was with us now.” the voice was squeaked out from a guilty looking Raccoon, almost as if he didn’t mean for the comment to slip out. 

 

“We all do.” Azalea replied, her words echoing around the cavern. A hollow feeling filling Azalea’s chest. She hadn’t been the same since Cair Paravel fell, no, since her siblings left. “I want the birds to do another scouting party, I want to know the location of every camp the Calormen had set up on Narnia’s shore. I want to know about their boats, how much arsenal they have at their disposal, I want to know of any plans they are taking, what direction they are coming from. Though don’t take unnecessary risks.” 

 

“Right away, your Highness.” The Robin spoke up, taking flight into the air and flying, along with his companions, out of the cavern. 

 

“I want as many shields, swords, arrows and armor made as possible. Narnia needs every sword and available hand or hooves or paws, that we can get. I am ruling in favor of overturning the exile of the Minotaur, Wolves, Cyclops, and all those who had once followed the White Witch.” instant rejection erupted around the council room, words of disapproval flying all around. 

 

“You can’t be serious?” 

 

“That is madness, they’ve followed the White Witch, our oppressor.” 

 

“How can you even suggest such a thing?”

 

“Silence!” Orion stomped a hoof, the sound loud enough to silence the protests. “Allow her Majesty to speak.” Azalea shot Orion a thankful glance, he simply nodded for her to continue. 

 

“In a time of war, our nation should be united not segregated. The mistakes of the past can be forgiven as long as their loyalty to Narnia now is sincere. As Queen, it is my duty to look out for all of Narnia’s creatures, those that had followed the White Witch are still Narnian and so it’s my duty to look after them. If they so desire redemption that is.” Azalea looked around the room, some thoughtful while others still seemed doubtful. 

 

“Everyone deserves a second chance,” spoke a Badger, agreeing with Azalea’s speech. “The actions of following the White Witch were mostly out of fear, how could we contem them all if they were simply scared of being turned to stone or outright killed?” 

 

“It’s not such a bad idea,” Azalea was surprised that it was the Black Dwarf that said this, though his beady eyes shined with a glimmer far sinister than Azalea could comment on. “They will help swell our ranks as well as the strength they wield.”

 

“The main point is,” Azalea cut in, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. “We give them a second chance, this time to fight in the name of Narnia. For Aslan and it's monarchs.” 

 

“A very wise decision, your Highness.” Azalea turned to Orion, he looked proud and she couldn’t help but smile at the praise. 

 

“Even if we did bring the former White Witches allies out of exile, it might still not be enough to fight against the Calormen.” spoke up a Boar, looking uncertain at the proceeding. 

 

“This is only the beginning,” Azalea said, staring hard at each Narnian in turn. “I need each and everyone of you. Fight with me, fight with Narnia, fight with Aslan. For Narnia and for Aslan!” cheers erupted around the room, an echo of the fraze ‘For Narnia and for Aslan’ rumbling off the walls. It brought a smile to Azalea’s face.

 

“I want battle suggestions written up right away,” Azalea said, turning to Orion. “I also want messengers to go find the exiled Narnian’s, I want to hear their reply by the end of the week. I want a constant eye on the shore, an to know the second they try to travel farther than the cliffs.” 

 

“I’ll do so right away.” Orion said, giving a nod of the head. Accepting her decision.

 

“This meeting is adjourned.” Azalea declared, her head held high as her subjects bowed and slowly left the main cavern. Orion still stood beside her, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder. “We have much to do, Orion.”

 

“I know. You did well,” Orion said, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Though you look tired, have you been sleeping well?”

 

“I don’t think any of us have been getting much sleep, Orion.” Azalea sighed, running a gloved hand through her short hair. It had grown slightly longer, now it reached just below her cheekbones. She’d have to cut it again soon, though for now, a helmet shall do. 

 

“Then you should go rest,” Orion said, giving her a slight push towards the exit. “I can handle the battle planning. You go back to your tent, I’ll send something for you to eat as well.” 

 

“You’ll fill me in on the battle plans, wont you?” Azalea asked, hesitating a moment longer. 

 

“Word for word.” Orion reassured, gesturing her to go on ahead. Azalea nodded, leaving the planning in his capable hands. 

 

When Azalea exited Aslan’s How, she was instantly attacked with slobbering kisses from both Bright Eyes and Goldenrod. Their combined assault nearly brought her to the ground, she steadied herself by leaning against the outer wall. 

 

“Your Highness, how was the council meeting?” Bright Eyes asked, being the first to drop down. Goldenrod following a heartbeat later, after giving Azalea one last slobbering lick. 

 

“It went well, Bright Eyes.” Azalea replied, spitting out some dog hair and rubbing the saliva off with a gloved hand. “Although I have overturned a law just a mere second ago.”

 

“You what?” Azalea looked up to see Gringelot, the steed was still decked out in his riding gear. Obviously he had been waiting on her return, or he was too busy grazing on the grass to bother finding someone to take it off for him. 

 

“The one exiling the Narnian species that used to follow the White Witch,” Azalea explained, feeling a bit defensive she added. “They could have changed their ways, now that the White Witch is gone.” 

 

“A grudge can hold for a long time your Majesty,” Gringelot warned, although he sounded accepting all the same. “Though you have a point. Anyone can mend their ways, just look at King Edmund.” Azalea froze, as did Goldenrod and Bright Eyes though Gringelot took no notice of this. 

 

“You maybe right, Gringolet,” Azalea said quietly, coming to rub his broadhead, just between his ears. “Can you take me back to my tent, I’m feeling quite tired.”

 

“But of course,” Gringolet knelt, so that Azalea would have an easier time getting on his back. “I’m a fine steed that can carry much heavier weights than just you, your Highness.” 

 

“I never knew you could do that,” Goldenrod exclaimed, looking mystified. “The only other weight that I thought you carried, besides Queen Azalea, was your stomach.” Azalea held in a snort of amusement, having to cover her silent laughter under the disguise of a loud cough. Gringelot sputtered with outrage, unable to form a proper reply he settled for glaring at the brindle dog. 

 

“Take no offense, Gringelot,” Bright Eyes comforted, giving his sister a disapproving look. “Just because we have never seen you lift anything other than her Highness, does not mean you can’t haul anything heavier.” Bright Eyes comment didn’t lift Gringelot’s sour mood, the black mane horse remained silent throughout the entire trip back to Azalea’s tent. Despite the other three companions attempt to engage him in conversation. 

 

A red and gold tent awaited Azalea as they ventured into the Shuddering Woods. Many other tents were set up around her own tent, although her’s was the biggest. When Azalea dismounted, she saw that a Faun was standing near the entrance to her tent. Holding a bowl full of bland oatmeal, with a few nuts for flavor, and apple cider. Azalea took the bowl and cider from him with a small smile, the Faun bowing with respect as Azalea passed him on her way into her tent. 

 

Her tent had the bare minimum, a trunk that she stored salvaged cloths. Mostly trousers, thick plain shirts and some undercloths. Edmund’s shield and Peter’s sword and her armor when she wasn’t wearing it. Which was rare to see her out of it nowadays. She kept Lucy’s dagger on at all times, even while she slept. She had a cot, which had a very thin mattress although she didn’t complain. Most of the army didn’t have mattresses, it was a luxury that Azalea accepted gratefully. 

 

She moved aside her blanket and sat down on the mattress. She picked up the small wooden spoon and began eating her oatmeal, it was terribly plain and the nuts were very salty. Though she didn’t complain, they were rationing for when the fighting happened. When the fighting began there was no time to find food. 

 

It brought her back to previous battles. The first ever battle she had ever been in was when she faced the White Witch's army. She had lead backup, while Peter had lead the frontal attack. She remembered how her nerves were on fire as she sat on the back of a Zebra, holding onto it's mane for dear life. She had gripped her sword so hard that her hand began to ache with strain, she had been terrified of losing her sword. Though seeing her brother, taking the risk of protecting the people of Narnia and fighting for the safety of his siblings, her. She felt something swell inside her, and without hesitation she had brought her army to join in the fight. 

 

Though, as she stirred the nuts around in the oatmeal. She admitted, their rations did have more flavor back then.


End file.
